Maybe She Wants Me
by zdw0002
Summary: A secret was kept from Lena Adams for over a decade. What happens when this secret, in the form of a little girl, comes to find her. Really bad at summaries :(
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there! This is my first FanFic and I hope you guys enjoy it. If you guys do enjoy it I will be happy to upload more :) Feedback and any ideas you may have to help me on this journey is very welcome. I hope you enjoy :)**

**I do NOT own The Fosters.**

Madison Isabella Alicia Amoretti-Rodriguez

I sat curled on my bed with One Direction blasting from my earphones. I can still hear them arguing. Maybe if I get under the covers, I can shut it all out. I draw the covers down and climb in, then pull the cover over my head, tucking it under my pillow. I move the few stuffed animals I allow to sleep with me aside, and try to get comfortable. I turn the music up louder, at this rate One Direction will be stuck in my head for days. I can hear them arguing again, so I decide to sing to myself, maybe that way I can block them out_. "Baby you light up my world like nobody else"_ I whisper to myself. I can feel my heart banging violently in my chest. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I'm not scared; it's just getting to be too much. This has been going on for weeks now, why can't they just get a divorce? I hear a crash and my bedroom wall shakes with the impact. I can feel it from under the protective cave I've formed for myself. This must be a big one. _"The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed" _I sing, my voice wobbling. Am I crying? I bring the hand not stuffed under my pillow to my cheek. Yes, it's wet, I didn't even realise. The wall shakes again and I hear a thud. Pulling the covers away from me, I sit up in my bed to see that my pin-board had fallen from its place on my wall, next to the posters of One Direction and Mindless Behaviour. All my notes that I had carefully arranged colour coded of course, of my weekly schedule was now scattered on the floor in a mess. I huffed and pulled the covers off completely to go over and pick it all up. I don't like mess.

As I push myself up from the bed, wiping my face clean of any evidence of tears previously fallen, I hear a light _tap-tap_ on my window. Curiosity got the better of me as I sat back on the single bed once again and rolled over to the other side, landing firmly on the contents of my jewellery box which must have dropped off my bedside table. I tried not to cry out in pain when I realised I had step on the sharp end of one of my earrings, yet my eyes became watery and I let out a small sniffle. I hear the light _tap-tap _once again, and remember why I had been so eager to get to this side of the room in the first place. I hobble, on my good foot, to the window. I open the curtain and there is Mo standing two storey's below my window smiling up at me. I can tell it's a pity smile; I've been receiving quite a few of those lately. I open the window letting the cold air and sounds of the housing estate in. Children laughing and screaming in delight could be heard from the communal playground not far from where Mo stood. Dogs barking and teenagers huddled together on corners smoking, laughing and checking their phones every minute when it went off could also be heard amongst the distinct sounds of the Haringey Estate. I smiled back at Mo, I was genuinely happy to see him.

He looked like a typical thirteen year old boy in his black trousers and blazer he wore to school over his sky blue dress shirt which was hurriedly tucked into his trousers.

"What are you doing here?" I shouted down to him, half leaning out my window.

"Came to check on you innit? Though you might like to see my beautiful face" He shouted back with a grin that reached his eyes. The cold air was starting to get to me, so I wrapped my cream cardigan around me tight, smiled and leaned out the window to shout back to Mo.

"Ha you wish! But what are you really doing here? " I looked over to the clock on my wall which read 13:07. "It's after one, why aren't you in school?"

"I could ask you the same thing shrimp! Plus they sent me home to re-evaluate my attire" He shouted rather smugly from his place on the grass below. I stared at him, trying to figure out what was so wrong with what he was wearing that he needed to be sent home for it. Mo must have seen my face scrunched up in trying to figure out the offending items, as he flamboyantly gestured to his shoes and then turned the cap on his head around properly for me to have full view, and posed leaning back to the left, arms folded slightly and right hand lifted to touch his chin. The grin had returned.

"You wore your brand new Jordan's to school!? And what's with the hat?" I screamed at him. He really was a show off.

"What!? Snap-backs rule! And they match!" He said and gestured to the black and blue Jordans and hat.

"You're such a show off Mo, and that's what gets you into trouble" I chastised.

"Yeah well, the other kids need to aspire to be like someone!" He yelled matter-of-factly, throwing his hands in the air and backing up a few steps.

I started laughing and he did too. Then I heard another bang on my bedroom wall. I stopped laughing immediately, and Mo must have sensed the change and sobered up himself. I turned from the window to see that my stack of books had fallen off the table. The table which was still shaking violently and the sounds of arguing still audible. It shook again, threatening to through the rest of my belonging to the floor. I turned back to the window to look down at Mo. He shifted under my gaze. He knew what was going on.

"Talk later, yeah?" I hurriedly shouted out to him, turning back to my room and moving away from the window, evaluating what I should clean up first.

"Yeah. Come by mine if you need to, Mum don't mind." He shouted back.

"Yeah" I whispered to myself as I surveyed the room. If my room looked like this, what did the living room look like? I bent to my knees and pressed my hands to my face tiredly. I hope they don't expect me to clean it up. As I reached to pick up the fallen pin-board I heard another shout from the window.

"OI SHRIMP! DID YOU HEAR ME?" Mo shouted at the top of his lungs.

I rushed back to the window and stuck my head out.

"I hear you okay! Now go back to school!" I shouted back.

"Good! And don't shout at me I'm older than you shrimp" He shouted back pointing at me then straightening his blazer. "Have some respect" he said looking away smiling and turning the cap on his head back to front to regain his thirteen year old street image. I laughed and he looked up and smiled at me.

"Well I'll see you later, yeah?" He said walking backwards away from my window towards his own block of Flats.

"Yeah" I said pulling my windows closed. The sounds of the Haringey Estate ceased and the sounds of Flat number 237 grew louder as another crash was heard along with screaming.

"Well let's get this cleaned up Blobs." I said to my stuffed Mr. Blobby which I had received from a charity shop when I was six.

"Let's get this cleaned up."

xxxx

An hour later and the Flat had calmed significantly. Well, the banging and throwing of things had stopped at least. After picking up my fallen possessions, carefully placing them all in their correct place, I decided to get started on my school work. I rummaged through my bag for the right worksheets. Unlike many children my age I actually enjoy my lessons. Well I enjoy my extra lessons at Mycenae House more than those at school. At school the lessons are simple to say the least, and I always finish before the other kids. I normally just sit there for half the lesson looking out the window daydreaming or doodling in my notebook, sometimes I contemplate skipping school altogether but I'm way too much of a chicken. I really loathe being in trouble, any form of confrontation really, especially when I've done wrong puts me on edge and in danger of crying.

My teacher suggested that I go to Mycenae House to give myself more of a challenge academically.

That's where I met Mo. Well… that's where I met _'Muhammad'_ for the first time. Miss Jenny, the tutor, insisted on calling Mo by his given name, which Mo despised with an eye roll every time she addressed him as such. When I started three years ago, I was paired up with Mo which he also despised, thus resulting in him calling me a 'baby' because I was nearly three years younger than him. Miss Jenny quickly informed him that he could learn a thing or two from me and he promptly kept quiet. He was incredibly smart for his age like myself, but preferred to use his time getting himself in and out of trouble. Mo was tall and lanky with an afro hi-top; his grandparents were from Jamaica which he used as some badge of honour whenever there was some form of confrontation. He would puff out his chest and declare to his opponent in a put-on Jamaican accent "You think you're bad. I'm Jamaica mate". Apparently being a Jamaican meant nobody messed with you.

Mo and I became fast friends especially when we realised we lived on the same housing estate and despite the age difference we clicked. Mo was like my annoying older cousin that I adored and I was his little shrimp who he would protect till the end. This meant I was frequently at his house on the evenings that my parents decided to kick it off.

I smoothed out my worksheet to see what I had to complete for my extra lessons homework. It was on Germany in the time of Hitler and the Holocaust. It was mainly multiple-choice but there was a small essay section at the end that I would need my textbook for. I rummaged again through my bag for the needed material. It wasn't there. I stood from my crouched position in front of my book bag and turned on my heel to walk over to my table. I scanned through the books there, lifting them one by one scanning the covers. Nope, no book. I huffed and turned to go back over to my bed where I had left my worksheet, and then it clicked. I left it on the table in the hall! I quickly went over to my bedroom door and opened it slightly and as quietly as I could. Sticking my head out, I stopped to listen. I couldn't hear anything, no screaming or crashing noises so I guessed the coast was clear. I tentatively stepped out of the safety of my bedroom and walk out into the hall to get my textbook.

xxxx

I tiptoed slowly over to the hall table, manoeuvring myself quietly amongst the abandoned appliances that resided in our hallway. I made it to the table which was next to the living room door, the room which my parents probably carried out WWIII in. As I scanned the pile of junk that was on the table, courtesy of my mother's bad cleaning habits, I found my textbook and gently slid it out from under the newspapers stacked on top of it.

As I turned to head back into my room I could hear talking coming from the living room. This was a vast contrast to the previous sounds coming from the room. As the door was slightly ajar, curiosity getting the best of me once again, I decided to listen. I bent to my knees and scooted myself to the door, making sure to be out of sight just in case.

From my spot on the floor with my text book held to my chest I listened. I could hear my Mum speaking, her voice cracking and filled with emotion.

"Ramon you can't do this. It's stupid" she said.

"No. What is stupid was me sticking around for all these years. You lied to me Serafina" my Dad hissed.

I shifted in my spot, my knees hurting on the hardwood floor. I've never heard my Dad like this before. Angry yes, but he sounded more than angry, he sounded hurt.

"You lied for eleven years, made me love her. We have had our fair share of betrayal Serafina but this, it tops the fucking cake." My Dad's Brazilian accent was stronger at this point. It usually came out when he got really angry or upset. I guess in this case he was both.

I chanced a glance through the slight crack of the door. I could see my mother, her back to me, sitting in the chair facing what I presumed to be my father. From my position I could see her foot nervously shaking on the floor, which was covered in debris, under the chair making a rapid _tap tap tap _sound. She didn't say anything.

"I teach her, I teach her the way of my people!" my Dad hissed. He came into view and I quickly moved my head, holding my breath in fear of getting caught. He must not have seen me as he continued on his rant.

"Portuguese! I teach her Portuguese! She could say _'eu te amo paizinho'_ by the time she was two! Two! I taught her that." He said again voice rising.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. They were talking about me. Me!

xxxx

I sat still beside the door, my legs starting to lose all forms of feelings from my chosen bottom on heel seating position. I could hear my mother shifting her weight in the chair as if to get up.

"No! You listen." My father demanded. A creek from the chair indicated my Mother sitting back down.

"Ramon, there is no need for this, you know now. She is still your daughter." I heard my Mother say, her Italian accent forever present.

I froze in my spot, my heart pounding in my chest. This is not possible. He's my Daddy. I closed my eyes tight and cursed myself for not staying put in my room. Silent tears were falling steadily, and my body jerked as I silently sobbed.

I heard my father's voice next, and what he said crushed my heart.

"No she is not. I don't know how to love her now. She is no different than the _criancas _on the street. The only difference is I feed this one!" he all but shouted.

I could feel my face get hot and my head was pounding with all the hurt and betrayal I felt. I was finding it hard to breathe amongst all the crying. I didn't try as hard to keep quiet. My body was unable too under the pressure. My quick short breaths of air, _in out in out, _was oblivious to my parents. Well parent and Ramon.

"_Paizinho"_ I whispered, tears falling again and I began to rock in my position by the foot of the door.

_"__Non avete il coraggio!"_ my mother shouted. I could hear light but firm footsteps towards the centre of the room, probably where my father stood. No, where Ramon stood. "She is your daughter and she is mine. Ours. _Il nostro. _You can love her just as I love her. Blood ties mean nothing, she is mine." She said.

Wait. I tried to still my breathing at this declaration. What did she mean by this? Ramon must have felt the same and questioned her.

"What do you mean? _'love her like you love her'"_

She didn't answer.

"Serafina! _Responda-me_" he growled.

I held my breath wanting to know the answer and fearing it all the same.

"She's not mine." I heard my mother say. I felt faint. "Well she is mine. She is ours" she said more forcefully.

"Explain!" he shouted now.

I winced in my spot, head still hammering and breathing irregular despite my methods of soothing myself.

"Well…" she began.

"Well, what!?" he demanded again.

"Well she has another parent." My mother said.

My mind was racing and everything was taking longer than usual to process.

"No fucking shit Sera!" my Father spat.

My nerves were taking over I was starting to hyperventilate.

My Mother mumbled something inaudible. Ramon was having none of it.

"Speak!"He shouted, and I heard a yelp which must have been my mother cowering in fear.

"She has another Mother." My mother cried out. Her cries echoed in the otherwise silent room.

I gasped and let out a small squeak. I'm quite sure my heart stopped beating, and my blood stopped flowing. It felt like an eternity before another word was said.

"How?" my father questioned. He sounded defeated as well as tired.

I listened as my mother told my father everything. From the time before my conception to her meeting him and having their gorgeous _bambina. _I listened as she said she thought she was in love. In love with another woman. Woman. I listened as she claimed it was all a mistake, that lifestyle wasn't for her. I listened as she told him she didn't know the egg had attached and something about the other woman trying for months. I listened as she said she was pregnant when they met.

I swayed under the weight of her confession barely able to physically stay upright with the vast amount of pressure. I strained myself to hear more, and thanked myself for the self control of not barging in there and demanding an apology and answers. Trying to comprehend the immense confession played havoc on my brain and its abilities. It felt like mush. I felt like mush.

"What's her name?" he said surprisingly calm.

"Whose name" she asked.

"Don't play dumb. Maddie's mother's name!? He said more forcefully, quickly losing the calm he once had.

"I'm her mother!" she shouted.

"Serafina! Her name!" I could hear that he had stood from his seat at this point.

I heard a light shift and the positioning of cushions. I thought she wouldn't answer, until I heard her whisper.

"Lena…her name is Lena Adams"


	2. Mind Blown

**I just want to say thank you to all those who have made this story your favourite ****and followed. It truly means the world to me. To those who have reviewed thank you so much I really appreciate it. Please keep reviewing I would love to hear what you all think it means so much. Anyways onto the story and I obviously do NOT own The Fosters, otherwise I would have nice car parked outside. **

Mind Blown

I sat up abruptly in my bed gasping for air. Beads of sweat had formed on my face and my hair stuck onto it. It must have been a dream, I must have been dreaming. I look around my room still panting, my heavy breathing racking my small body. Everything was in its right place except for a book on my bed. I reached down and turned it over. It was my history text on Germany. I stared at it as if it would give me answers to the confusing thoughts running through my head. Then it all came flooding back to me with such forced that if I wasn't already sitting up in bed I would have been knocked down by the memories. I was lied to! I was lied to for almost eleven years!

I had to stop myself from crying again because my head hurt too much. It was throbbing. How did I manage to get back into my room, let alone my bed? I turned to face the clock, it read 16:34. I must have been asleep for two hours. The weight of my existence rendering me exhausted. I lifted my hand to my head and felt that it was still hot from all the crying. I could hear footsteps in the Flat and pots clanging. It hurt my head. My mother must be making food for tea.

The realization of today's events hit me again. I can't be here. I can't be in the same room as her! I quickly jumped up and made my way to my neatly lined-up shoes, picking my red and white Vans. As I plopped down on the floor I hurriedly untied the laces, cursing myself for tying them to keep the shoe in shape. As I sat on the floor with one shoe on I heard the creek of my bedroom door opening behind me. I froze, left foot in the air as I tried to tug the shoe on.

"Baby?" she called softly.

I turned to see my Mother poking her head in through the door. Her mousy brown hair pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, courtesy of her years in the ballet. She looked around the room searching for me. I coughed trying to clear my throat and steady my breathing. She looked down and saw me on the floor. She stepped into the room fully.

"_Dove stai andando_?" she asked. I pulled the shoe on fully and stood.

"Umm…I'm going to Mo's?" I said, my voice breaking slightly.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" she said walking over to me and pulling out my desk chair. She tilted her head to the side and looked down at me.

"_Mamma_, may I please go to Mo's house?" I asked.

She pointed to my shoes then the chair. I lifted my foot onto it and she crouched beside it.

"Madison you can't just leave when you feel like it." She said tying my shoe lace and indicating for me to put up the other foot. I did, hobbling on my other foot to keep balance. When I couldn't steady myself I reached out and held on to my Mother's shoulder while she continued. "I know you feel like you're older because you hang out with Mo and his friends" she said rising from the floor. I put my foot back down and pushed the chair under, I didn't dare look up at her. My shoes became very interesting. When did I get that scuff?

My mother must have thought I felt bad for not asking, she knew I didn't like being in trouble. I felt her envelope me in a hug, I stiffened at first and then melted into it. I latched onto her with all my might. Her small frame made it easy for my little arms to return the embrace. I really wanted and needed the comfort; I was just confused and didn't know where I could get it from now. I felt her step away, though still in her embrace, and lift my chin. I looked into her green eyes for the first time since she entered my room. They appeared normal but I could tell she applied make-up to hide the redness. I let my arms drop to the side as she kissed my forehead.

"_Il mio po 'di sole."_ she said and hugged me again.

"Can I go? I need to do homework." I whispered.

"Yes you can go" she said kissing me once again then turning to leave my room.

I quickly grabbed the worksheets on the table and the textbook that had caused me to question my life and where I belonged. Stuffing all essential items in my book bag I grabbed my jacket and headed for the front door. I needed to leave.

xxxx

I took my time getting to Mo's block of Flats. It normally took me less than five minutes, three if I ran. But I needed the time to think. It was cold and beginning to get dark. I had a denim jacket on over my red long sleeved polo , and my dark wash jeans gave me little warmth. I could feel the cold wind on my face blowing the stray hairs that had come loose from my bun.

The Estate at this time was dominated by the older kids, whose parents couldn't tell them what to do anymore. As I walked slowly through the London Estate I could see groups of three and four of them huddled together listening to music on their phones. I knew most of the kids, but I didn't have much in common with them. I knew they only left me alone because of my Dad; he had a reputation as a club bouncer to uphold. Plus they liked him because he could play almost any instrument and would take time out to teach them if they seemed curious. He use to sit in the park playing his guitar and watch me play on the swings. I loved those times.

My Mum was usually rehearsing for The Ballet Company for some show or another. When it was Ballet season my Dad and I would spend times immersing ourselves in his passion of music and I would pretend to be my Mother and dance. We would laugh and have so much fun together. Some days he would bench press me in order to 'bulk up' and throw me in the air and catch me to my Mother's dismay. She would curse our childish behaviour in Italian and then begin to laugh alongside us. We haven't done that for a while now, but I busy myself in school work instead.

It took me fifteen minutes to make it to Mo's. I took the long route. I walked along the landing to the correct Flat and knocked on the door. I could hear movement and loud music coming from inside, but none indicated they knew about my arrival. I shifted impatiently on the welcome mat and knocked again much louder. The front door opened with a _'swoosh'_ and the smell of Caribbean food invaded my nostrils. I jumped back a bit in surprise and looked up into the face of Mo's Mother. She was wearing an apron and had a dish towel over her shoulder, probably from cooking in the kitchen.

"Good Evening Mrs. Pennant." I said softly.

"Good Evening child, Muhammad is in his room" she said.

She stepped aside and I went into the hall taking my shoes off and placing them neatly next to the pile of tossed shoes left by Mo and his sisters.

"Always such a good child." Mrs. Pennant said smiling at me before walking into the kitchen.

I smiled back and poked my head into the living room to greet Mr. Pennant who replied with a grunt and shake of his newspaper.

I headed up the stairs and went straight to Mo's room. I knocked and opened the door at the same time. Mo's room smelt like Axe body spray and mints, the room was warm as usual. The Pennant house was known for being warm, Mr. Pennant not quite getting over the weather they have in England, always had the heating up way too high.

Mo was sitting at the foot of his bed, on the edge, with one of many game controllers in his hand. He didn't even tear his eyes away from the television screen when I came in. I threw myself and my bag on the bed causing Mo to lift slightly from his position; he didn't even look in my direction. I scrambled onto his bed and sat crossed legged in the middle of it, with my bag on my lap. I opened it and pulled out my work. I could easily get this done while he's playing. I scanned Mo's room in search of a pen. Mo's favourite colour was blue and it showed in his room. The walls and bedding were all blue, even the curtain were a deep shade of blue and football poster of Chelsea were stuck to the wall on any available space. I saw a pen on his desk and reached for it.

xxxx

"Ahh man I lost!" Mo shouted throwing the controller to the floor. By this time I had already completed my homework and was lying down on the bed, head resting in my hands as I watched Mo play.

"Yeah you lost the other four times too." I mumbled to him.

He looked towards me and asked if I wanted to play.

"Do I look like I wanna play?" I said angrily.

"Hey, calm down" he said looking at me fully for the first time in an hour. I could feel him searching my face for answers.

"Aww man I'm sorry." He said face palming himself, "I should have asked how it went." I pushed myself up and sat crossed legged once again. Mo mimicked my position.

"What happened this time? Did she catch him with some floozy at the club? Oh! Did he catch her spending too much money? Your Mum really needs to cool it on that, your place looks like a grave yard for appliances." Mo was laughing now at his own made up scenarios. Usually it made me feel better to laugh with him at my parent's mishaps but this time it wasn't so funny. I tried to laugh and pretend it was like all the other times but what came out was a sob and in an instant I was crying.

"Hey hey hey" Mo said moving to sit beside me and rubbing my back. "It can't be that bad. They always make it through. It'll be alright" He said reassuringly pulling me into a one armed hug.

"No, no it won't Mo. Not this time. It's me! I'm the reason!" I cried my headache from earlier returning full force. Mo rocked with me, and would fiercely deny it if anyone asked. My breathing calmed down and the tears stopped. In my state I didn't realise the music had stopped playing in the flat and Mo's bedroom door opened to reveal his sister Hasina. She was sixteen years old and pretended not to know Mo and I on the street if she saw us. But when we were in the Flat she was alright and we both knew if we really needed her she would be there.

"You alright Mads?" she asked standing in the door frame. Her black hair was piled high on her head and she ran her long purple fingernail along the door frame.

"Yeah I'm alright now" I sniffled.

"Okay. If you need help or something I got you yeah? You can't always trust him" she said pointing at Mo and smiling. I giggled. Before I could answer Mo shouted and threw a pillow at her.

"Yes she can! And get out of my room" he demanded.

"Yeah yeah" Hasina said with an eye roll. She winked at me and then closed the door slightly leaving it ajar. I could hear her footsteps going into her room and then the loud RnB music could be heard again.

Mo got off the bed and slammed the door closed fully. He turned around to face me. He looked me in the eye and said.

"Now tell me how this is your fault Shrimpy."

xxxx

"Wait what?" Mo said shaking his head and pacing in front of me. He stopped, bracing both hands on his dresser, head hanging between them.

"Say the last bit one more time" he said.

"Le-" I squeaked.

Mo didn't even give me a chance to answer before he began rambling.

"So your Mum's not your Mum but she is? And then there's this Lena person who is your Mum, right? And your Dad! Your Dad's your Dad right!?" he said whilst moving rapidly from chair to bed to dresser to pacing again. His face looked like he was trying to solve the most complex of mathematical equations. If I wasn't so distressed I would have found it funny.

"Oh my God! Does your Dad know!?" He said freezing from his now pacing to stare at me head on.

"Ye-" I began to say.

"Of course he knows! Hence the argument. Ha! I would've LOVED to see that!" he exclaimed.

I looked at him, and I could tell he could register the unimpressed look on my face.

"No not like that!" he quickly amended; right hand outstretched waving frantically at me.

"I mean hpff" he let out a long sigh, and then sat in the chair to the side of the bed.

"Your Mum…" he said.

"Yeah?" I said still in the same position, my legs were beginning to ache.

"Your Mum is gay!" He let out a loud laugh. "Your Dad must have freeeeeked!" He laughed unable to keep his amusement under locks. He stood up and moved to the foot of the bed.

"Ramon, I'm gay" he said in a high pitched voice, waving his hands daintily. I assumed his impression was supposed to be my Mother.

"Gay! Te no-no gay Serafina! Mucho penis grande! I hombre" he said in a deep voice, hitting his chest like Tarzan. "No homo here _ina fi mi_ casa!" He said finding his own imagination so hilarious that he couldn't hide his Jamaican accent.

"MUHAMMAD!" I shouted standing on the bed and launching myself onto him. I hit him repeatedly with all the strength I had.

"Ow! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" he begged, his pleas muffled under my surprised onslaught.

"He's Portuguese not Spanish you idiot!" I said hitting him again and again.

"Alright! Alright!" Mo surrendered. I jumped off of him and slapped him across the arm for good measure.

"Jheeze" he said holding his arm protectively close to him.

"It's not funny Mo" I said sadly looking up at him. I reached just below his shoulders and looked very small beside him, our age gap evident. Many people gave us second glances, not understanding our friendship, and right now I was second guessing it too.

"It's not funny" I said again looking down at the carpet.

Mo sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. When I didn't move he stretched his arm out and pulled me down beside him. I fell ungraciously beside him, the bed groaning under our weight. Mo enveloped me in a side hug and squeezed.

"I'm sorry Shrimpy" he said releasing his hold on me and patting me on the back.

"I thought you were my friend" I whispered, close to tears.

"I am your friend. I promise." He said placing his right hand over his heart, and using his left to side hug me again.

"Yeah well you weren't that supportive." I said looking up and locking eyes with him, tears threatening to fall.

"Awww don't cry Mads. Please don't cry." He pleaded whilst moving to kneel in front of me. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

Mo had both of my hands in his one, his other hand resting on the bed beside my right leg. I drew my left hand away to wipe at the lone tear that had escaped running down my cheek.

"I wanna…" I sniffed rubbing my hand over my nose.

"I wanna find her Mo." I said looking at our intertwined hands on my lap.

"You wanna find your Mum?" he asked looking up at me.

I lifted my head to look at him full on. I nodded and said "Yeah I do."

"Okay. Okay I'm with you. We can do that." He sounded confident in his abilities.

"Really?" I asked, hope glistening in my eyes.

"Yeah. Really." He laughed and stood. Mo turned on his heel and took a seat in front of his laptop.

I jumped up and stood beside him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm finding her, duh." He swiftly opened up his internet browser.

"How are you going to do that?" I asked.

"Google duh. Damn Shrimpy this news has really messed up your head. I think you IQ has dropped a few points." He said nudging me.

"Even if it has dropped, it's still higher than yours _Muhammad_" I chuckled, nudging him back playfully.

"Oi! Manners" he said laughing.

The Google page shined brightly at us. "You ready for this Madison?" he asked the mood turning serious.

I breathed heavily, _in out in out._

"I'm ready. Do it."

xxxx

"Wow" Mo said looking at the image on the screen.

"Is that her? Make it bigger!" I said. Mo quickly clicked away at the screen enlarging the image.

"She's…damn. She looks just like you." He said.

"Are you sure it's her?" I asked leaning over Mo to get a better look at the screen.

"Yeah, I mean. Look at the others, this one looks like you the most." He said pointing at the picture.

"Click on it."

"Stop being bossy."

"Mo!"

"Okay okay." He clicked on the image and a new website appeared.

"What's Anchor Beach?"

"It looks like a private school."

"Damn! Is it actually on a beach!?"

"Where is it?"

"It's in America Mads." He said looking over his shoulder at me. My face fell, "sorry".

I stood up straight. "Never mind."

How can she be my Mum? I don't think my Mum's been anywhere outside Europe.

"It's probably not her anyways." I said defeated, gathering my stuff to leave.

"Come on, she looks just like you!" Mo shouted.

"Look! Curly hair like you, smile like you. Look she's the Vice-Principal of this place. See smart like you too!"

"No. I don't think so Mo."

"Just because she's in America doesn't mean she's not your Mum."

I turned to leave, opening the door and making my way into the hallway.

"BLOODY HELL YOUR DAD IS FROM BRAZIL AND YOUR MUM IS ITALIAN FOR CHRIST SAKE!" Mo shouted from inside his room, now standing and looking at me through the door.

"WHO IS USING THE LORDS NAME IN VAIN IN THIS HOUSE!? MUHAMMAD ELIJAH PENNANT GET YOUR BACKSIDE DOWN HERE!" Mrs. Pennant shouted from downstairs.

Mo huffed and stomped out of his room and brushed past me down the stairs. I followed quietly behind him, and saw him go into the living room. I grabbed my shoes and sat on the stairs to put them on. I could hear Mo being told off by Mrs. Pennant and when she wanted Mr. Pennant' s input he would just grunt or say, "You hear what your Mother said boy."

With my shoes and jacket on I ducked my head into the living room. I nervously cleared my throat as I could see that Mrs. Pennant was only halfway through disciplining Mo and had already taken out her Bible.

"The Lord did not sacrifice himself –"

"Umm, sorry excuse me, but goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Pennant"

Mrs. Pennant looked away from Mo and over his shoulder at me. "Goodbye child. Get home safe, it dark out." She said in her Jamaican accent pointing her Bible at me. Mr. Pennant ruffled his newspaper in response.

"Umm bye Mo" I said, his back was turned away from me

"Bye" he grunted, not even turning around to look at me.

I secured my jacket and made sure I had my bag before walking out the front door. I would prove to Mo that woman isn't Lena Adams, even if I had to go through my Mothers things to prove it!


End file.
